Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. Professor Michael S. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. ‘I am done, Gérard. Instead, God had sent her Sebastianus, a man who had sold his soul to the Devil to gain eternal life, or perhaps he was even the Devil himself. It feels like it. And if I cared to have him come every day, why shouldn’t he? I find him very amusing and very useful as well.
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